He Shot Me Down
by Laney-Jane
Summary: Ozymandias' only defeat came at the hands of The Comedian.


A final blow to the jaw sent him flying backwards, against the cold, rain soaked floor of the alley, the murky water of the puddle stung as it leaked into the fresh cuts upon his face, pale blonde hair becoming stained with the dirt and blood it had been forced against. He couldn't believe it. After all the training. The planning. The certainty. Defeated, by little more than a few swift hits.

Adrian's eyes followed the feet of the other, watched as he slumped down, effortlessly, against one of the wooden crates, thick fingers pulling out a cigar, and lighter, as if nothing had even happened. Adrian hesitated getting back up. This man clearly saw no threat in remaining in the alley with him, how was he to know he was even finished? Realistically, Adrian knew it would be foolish to launch into a further fight with this man if unnecessary.

"I suggest you give up now. So I don't have to sink another one into you." He sighed, nonchalantly, the stench of cigar smoke emerging from his lips as he spoke, choking the other's breath between ropes of thick, grey fumes. "Wouldn't want to mutilate that pretty little face of yours anymore than I already have done. Your looks obviously mean more to you than crime fighting."

"What?" Adrian snapped, indignantly, pulling himself up from the concrete floor. He spat out the blood that had been collecting within his mouth, wiping it away with an already bloodstained purple sleeve.

"Did I stutter?" The Comedian's smirk spread across his face almost wider than the scar that lay upon it.

"You knew I wasn't here to fight against you." Adrian muttered, quietly. This was more of a statement than a question. It was clear now this was not a man of morals.

"Hey! You really _are_ a smart kid." The Comedian's smirk had yet to vanish from his face.  
Adrian did not respond at first, he wiped the last of the blood from his mouth, wincing at the twinge of pain caused by lifting his left arm.

"Hey, don't feel too bad, kid. I mean, for a faggot you put up a pretty decent fight."

Adrian felt his heart race, his palms tightening in frustration.  
"I'm not-"

"Who are you trying to kid?" The Comedian snorted, stubbing out the end of his cigar on the side of one of the brick walls enclosing the alleyway,

"Excuse me?" Adrian retorted, a sense of child-like pride momentarily overcoming his dignity.

The older man rose from where he was sitting, approaching the younger with the same bolshy sense of confidence he'd shown moments before, at the head of the street. Before Adrian had been given time to work out what this man was planning on doing next, he felt himself being slammed against the brick wall. The sudden movement had startled him, and, much to his disgust, he let out a shriek of pain.

The Comedian's lips twisted into, if possible, an even wider smile.

"Just because you're clever doesn't mean you can fool everybody." He sneered, face inches away from Adrian's now, as he spoke. He raised a gloved hand to Adrian's face, running a carelessly heavy hand across the cuts and grazes he'd acquired from their fight. Adrian winced.

"You see, I already know an awful lot about you. Rich kid, weren't you? Mommy and Daddy died... and you suddenly felt compelled to run around smashing skulls in that obnoxious little costume of yours rather than sit back and bask in the money the terrible _tragedy_ bought you? What are you trying to prove exactly?" The Comedian snarled back at the younger man, the particular emphasis used on the word 'tragedy' making it clear he could really have cared less what happened to them. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Adrian glared back through bloodshot eyes, anger and contempt welling within. As much as this beast of a man sickened him more and more with every word he spoke, he couldn't help feeling a sinking sense of disenchantment with each blow of smoke that emerged from this man's lips as he verbally tore him apart.

"Hey, just think...if I know all this, imagine what else I might know?" The Comedian's eyes glinted in the dim light of the nearby street light as he spoke.

"Get the hell off me." Adrian muttered finally, disgust lacing his words.

He felt a fist collide with his jaw, knuckles knocking against bone with such impact that Adrian felt his knees buckle and give underneath him. He now lay slumped against the wall, head hung forward, allowing rose stained strands of hair to fall over his expression.

"As you wish, _Ozymandias_." The Comedian's mocking words came from a distance now, he must have been at the foot of the alleyway oncemore. Adrian looked up, teeth gritting to suppress the urge to yelp in pain at the shooting sensation that arose in his neck when he did so.

The Comedian had already gone.


End file.
